Fighting demons

I get scared that I can't do this, that I will never finish this journey I have begin or meet the goals I have set out for myself. I fear that I'll become complacent, unchanging, unmoving and unmotivated. My biggest fear is that I'll let down myself, and everyone else who has given me so much support through the loss of my first 25 lbs.

When I start packing my gym bag in the morning thoughts sometimes creeps in my head. 'Why bother?' a voice says, 'you'll never finish. You'll never be great. You'll never be movie-star thin, so why even bother.' I find my shoes and zip them in the bottom. 'Those things will never carry you through a finish line.' I grab my pants, a sports bra. 'Those are XL and L. If you can't be smaller what makes you think you can do this?' My shirt lays on top. 'All your flab shows when you wear that one. You think you're running, but everyone is just laughing at you.' I fill up my water bottle and screw the lid on before tossing it in. 'You sweat so much that you should get two of those. It's disgusting, seeing the drips, smelling your stench.' I grab the gym bag and my purse, and head out to the car.
I take a breath of the cool morning air as I step out the door and treasure the silence around me.

Some mornings are harder than others. Some mornings I want to forget the gym bag. Then I have an excuse to come home instead of going to the gym that day. Then I have an excuse to stay home when it's so cold and windy outside. So after packing, I place the bag right on my purse. I can't forget my purse, so I can't forget my bag.

Some mornings are silent. Packing takes seconds and I'm out the door, on the go. I fling the bag over my shoulder like there's no weight at all in it and jump down the steps in exuberance. These mornings, obviously, are my favorite. There is no pep talk to give, no voices to dismiss. It's easy. Effortless.

It's not effortless for me to take a single step on this journey. Some may seem easier than others, but each one is step. A step backward, a step to the side, a step forward. They are all steps. Just like when I'm running. Each step is a step. Curving around a corner, leaning forward up a hill, take short strides on the way down, each is a step and each is important.

My demons, for now, are part of this journey. I may never conquer them, they may never disappear, but for now they are not dictating my life and they do not control my story. I decide if I will walk out that door with my gym back or without it. I decide if I will drive by the gym on my way home or stop and make myself healthier. I ultimately decide if chocolate or carrots will go in my body. This is my journey, and no voice in my head is going to tell me how it goes.